I think my life could not have picked a better day to get so crazy-busy that I would skip writing. I had the advantage of having hit Wednesday's quota on Thursday, and Laura and I took Wednesday off in order to prep for the Thanksgiving feast. Which is a beast of a feast. So with everything that had to be done in prep (including a sink-unclogging that featured gunk getting sprayed all over my wife's freshly showered face — a story that I hope she'll find some humor in someday, but that ain't today so you'll have to wait for that one), I really had no problem not making time to write.
So I used my day in the bank, and I'm still on quota. Now I'm up against it today, and I'm hoping that we did so much prep last night that I might have a half-hour or hour or so to sit down and do some very specific outlining of the remaining work. 'Cause let me tell you . . . I've got two people who are kind of in a dysfunctional place in their relationship, and I need to get their asses together somehow. (Amanda -- thanks for the comment; I'm trying to work exploding penguins into their romance.)
I've had all these scenes floating around in my head — little moments, almost like memories of a life that I've never led — and I need to find a home for them. My hopes have been that today is the day they get anchored to a section of the book. And then, hopefully, I'll have some idea of where I'm going with this and I can start cranking out the words.
My hopes of doing this project might have been dashed last night by the confluence of a number of events. We finally finished food prep (and kitchen cleanup) at 1:45 a.m. and got ready for bed, only to find that Zuzu had woken up. And more than just a middle-of-the-night disturbance; a serious wake-up. She does this sometimes, and when she does she's completely disoriented and convinced it's time to get up for the day. She insisted on something to eat, and then complained of (growing) pain in her knees. A bowl of fresh pineapple and two teaspoons of kids' Motrin later, she was finally settling in.
Cue the dog. Our family from St. Louis brought their King Charles spaniel with them. Lily is very much a part of the family, and we love her to death. She's never been a problem before, but last night it was clear to her from all the crying and getting-of-food that other people were awake. So she began this methodical single bark every 10 to 15 seconds. I stumbled out and "talked" to her. And she quieted down, and I finally was able to fall asleep . . . with Zuzu slapping her arms out and regularly hitting me in the face.
CRASH! Something came piling through our bedroom door and collapsed on the ground. "I'm so scared I'm so scared I'm so scared I'm so scared!" Piper screamed, and piled into bed on Laura's side. Serious nightmare action. I took the opportunity to move Zuzu back to her bed, where she woke up just enough to demand a little backrub before she fell back asleep and let me go.
Ah -- back in bed, just falling asleep, and . . .
"Woof!"
Out to the living room to remind Lily that, no, no one was really up, and sorry for fooling her.
Blissfully asleep . . . until . . . What was that sound? Something way off in the distance . . . which if I'm not mistaken . . . wait, it's getting louder as I wake up . . . Yeah, that would be the house alarm. Sister-in-law Heidi had gotten up to take Lily out for a walk and had forgotten about the alarm system.
So, that was the end . . . I was up! All of which is to say that I'm not really feeling very creative at the moment, and any free time that I was hoping would be used for novel outlining will most likely be used for catnaps on the couch while the turkey cooks.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
No comments:
Post a Comment